Welcome to the Redneck Games

In East Dublin, Georgia, the sun beats down,
On fields where mullets claim their crown.
A rebel breeze stirs up the heat—
It’s time to make this redneck meet.

With a cigarette flip, the sparks take flight,
A Marlboro arcs in midday light.
No lighter needed, skill’s the spark—
The crowd erupts, they hit their mark.

Bobbing for pig's feet, oh what joy!
A delicacy since you were a boy.
Mud and vinegar swirl in a pail—
Dip your face in, never fail.

The seed spitting champs line up tall,
Watermelon rinds left near the stall.
A hush descends, then seeds take wing—
The furthest lands will win that bling.

Toilet seat throwing, graceful and bold,
Porcelain frisbees through air unfold.
They whirl like halos, white and proud—
The crash gets cheers from the rowdy crowd.

Then the mud pit calls with a belly flop—
A cannonball dive that just won't stop.
Brown tides rise, the piglets scatter—
The bigger the splash, the better the chatter.

Big-hair contest—reach for the skies!
Aquanet towers win the prize.
Bouffants wobbled, teased to fight—
A six-inch lift? That’s dynamite.

Next up’s the wet T-shirt show,
Where pride and water freely flow.
Drenched and loud, they stomp and twirl—
Every rebel queen and girl.

Armpit serenade brings hearts to sway,
With oiled-up pits they start to play.
Melodies churn from hairy vents—
A ballad born of southern scents.

Bug zapping by spitball feat—
A test of aim and tongue-tied heat.
With straw in lips and eyes locked tight,
They blast the zappers through the night.

Dumpster diving, grace in grime,
You find your treasures every time.
One man’s trash? Another’s art—
A velvet Elvis, purest heart.

Then comes hubcap hurling pride—
A silver discus on its ride.
It clatters loud like rebel drums—
The medal’s yours if back it comes.

So raise a beer and stomp your boot,
Let no one say we ain't astute.
For in the dust and denim seams,
We live the lore of Redneck Dreams.